Nothing is truly forgotten
by blue.ragdoll
Summary: Based after the Forgotten Portrait ending. Ib is plagued by nightmares of the gallery that force her to remember the one left behind. Can she save him and what other twisted stories lurk within the gallery?
1. Chapter 1

In a desolate corridor a young girl awakens, she strains her eyes to see through the oppressing darkness. '_Again... Why do these nightmares come every night_' she sighs wearily at the all too familiar dreamscape. The atmosphere was so still even her thoughts seemed to echo through the halls. Each night she wanders this nightmarish gallery, almost as if she were here as punishment.

The girl sighed as she traveled further into the labyrinths depths, the sooner morning came the better. The air was cold and the walls, a dark burgundy, were adorned with various pictures, in a time long past she would have taken the time to admire each painting. Now however there was only one she wanted to see, but he rarely appeared now unless she was in trouble. She continued on her search, barely noticing the black claws that sprung from the sides, she knew well they couldn't reach the centre of the corridors.

After what seemed like hours of crippling loneliness, she suddenly spotted the silhouette of a man at the end of hall. Her heart lightened as she recognised the man that had been her sole kindness in this maze. When she first came to the dream gallery she had been afraid of him fearing he was like all the other monsters, but he had been compassionate. Always with a warm smile and gentle manner he was a comforting light that brought her back from despair.

She ran as fast as she could, the sound of her frantic footsteps filling the empty space. Before she could reach him he disappeared around the corner. Strange he must have not noticed her, though that seemed impossible with the amount of noise she was making. Pressing on she chased his shadow deeper and deeper though the tangle of passageways, until finally a large room opened up before her.

The walls were a pale grey colour leading high up to a glass ceiling depicting sky of ash coloured clouds, the sun rays straining to push through. In the centre of the room was an immense marine featured painting the plague read 'Abyss of the Deep.' The man was standing at the edge painting, he looked back as the girl entered the room and silently beckoned her over. Panting she joined him, peering into the paintings endless depths made her head spin. It was like the rabbit hole from Alice in Wonderland but rather then a fluffy white rabbit there was a great fish with greedy jaws.

The man took a step closer to the edge and offered his hand, that was when she saw it. His grin looked... wrong, it wasn't the cheerful carefree one that gladdened her heart, it was almost serpentine. She slapped away the impostors hand and turned to run. The fake growled with fury and roughly grabbed the girls wrist and neck, his eyes burning through the dark with malicious intent he dragged her towards the painting. '_Where is my guardian?_' tears streamed down her face as the inky darkness came ever closer.

With a grunt of pain from her captor the girl was suddenly released landing hard on the floor. She winced in pain as she looked up to see another man holding out a lighter, with an impossibly bright flame, driving the impostor away, all monsters here seemed to fear fire. The man thrust the flame into the imitations face forcing it to retreat.

Eyes full of concern the man pulled up the girl lying on the group and gave her a smile when sure she wasn't badly hurt.

"I thought I lost you, sorry I was late Ib" his eyes slightly downcast.

"Don't think like that, I'm fine and I know you'll always come running when I need you" she beamed. It was true every time something in this place had attacked her he'd appear, it was the reason Ib had managed to keep such high spirits.

He dared not tell her that in truth his strength had been draining with each time he left his painting for Ib. The thought of Ib all alone in this place gravely troubled him. He quickly cast the thought out of his head, it didn't bear thinking about. Looking down at Ib's wide grin contented his heart, the small pieces of joy he still had would have to somehow sustain him.

"My look at the time, you should be heading home." The man said checking his wrist watch.

Gentlemanly he reached out his hand to her and indicated towards a staircase, bathed in a tranquil light, it seemed much friendlier then the rest of this place. As Ib took his hand she noticed his watch wasn't ticking, '_Strange... maybe he doesn't want me here, I'm too much of a burden..._' but as she looked at him his smile told her otherwise.

He didn't like Ib staying too long in this place, though it pained him to see her go he couldn't forgive himself if she came to harm, and that outweighed any loneliness he might feel. Hand in hand they ascended the stairs to the second floor stopping before a painting full of blue roses. The painting came alive with a soft glow, with that the man lent out his hand to help her through the painting. Clambering through Ib stopped for a quick goodbye when she saw what looked like a dust devil silently gathering in the shadows.

What was actually ash settled into the form of a little girl with golden blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Ib knew well by now that this.. this creature was little more then a demon hiding behind a child's face. She would hound Ib through the halls wailing incoherently about being abandoned and burned, Ib couldn't understand why the girl seemed to blame her.

Shocked by the sudden appearance Ib slipped on the edge of the painting, nearly falling through, just holding on as she screamed "Look out!". The man spun about to block the new danger, stretching his arms wide to impede it's progress. He gazed downwards at Mary and couldn't help but feel the slightest ting of pity for her, despite everything she had done. When they had first meet she was the picture of a jovial innocent kid, now her face contorted with the venom and vile of her desired revenge.

Mary's eyes filled with insanity as she screeched "ehh heh hehehee he won't helping you anymore, he's mine! Mine! Mine! MINE!" '_I'll make her feel my pain! I'll make sure she feels it forever!' _her mouth twisted into a disturbing grin.

With that a series of thorny vines spurn from around Mary and sped towards the man, ensnaring his limbs and ripping into his flesh. '_What.. what is this!? this is too much even for her!'_ He gasped in pain, taken aback by her sheer ferocity he stumbled as the vines tightened around him cutting into him while stopping him from breathing. The mixture of intense pain and lack of oxygen quickly rendered him unconscious.

Ib could only look on as the man was fell to the ground. Her chest began to contract with horror as her protector lay motionless '_no.. No! No! No! he's not dead, he's not!'_

Blood began to pool around him as he stopped moving, staring at the still figure something awoke in Ib. It was akin to unlocking a childhood treasure box having memories so old they were almost alien wash over you. The sudden surge of memories was almost unbearable, eyes full of tears she looked down at the man being carried away by a nest of thorns. '_He's alive. I know he is_.' As her hands slipped from the edges of the painting she shouted "I'll come back, I'll save you..."

Sitting bolt right up in her bed, her body trembling '_must have been another nightmare' _she thought steading her nerves. She looked down at her hands and noticed a deep purple bruise around her left wrist. The events of the dream snapped into focus she let out a whisper "... Garry"

**AN : Thanks to anyone who actually reads this. T****his is my first fan fiction so all comments, that'd help me improve my writing are very welcome. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Ruin of the heart**

His eyes fluttered open his vision was cloudy like he'd been asleep for a long time, yet he was exhausted. Groaning he forced his battered body up as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, all around him were shifting colours. Like being surrounded by a garden pond, blues within deeper blues tinged with purple swirling like water amongst bloated blots of various red and yellows mimicking goldfish. The colours mixed, merged and split to create dazzling displays, amazing that something so beautiful could exist in such a morbid place.

Garry felt relived by the familiar surroundings of his painting, not something he would have readily admitted when he first woke here. It had been unsettling passing from a real and full existence to becoming one of the monsters.. residents of the fabricated world. It was as if his being had been stripped and repurposed, remoulded but incomplete. Akin to a story rewritten by unskilled hands, that had only graced the surface context and filled the blanks with childish fantasy.

It wasn't something he'd dwell on, there was no reason to think he was any different since he had entered that accursed gallery. He was aware of another him, but that was different that creature was a monster for sure. He was nothing like that, dispute it he all might he could never shake the disturbing feeling something, outside the obvious, was deeply wrong.

"hm? When did I get back here? ... I guess I must have.. must have been dazed after..." He grimaced, he could still feel the barbs piercing his sides.

Despite the pain he took solace that Ib was safe from Mary's twisted games for now. How funny it was that something could make him miss the old Mary. Whatever strife she'd caused she wasn't this sadistic beast that now hunted in her form. The true one wouldn't have dragged Ib to the gallery to torment her each night, she had loved Ib like a sister.

Whenever Ib was forced into the gallery Garry somehow sensed it, like they were connected somehow. During these times he'd anxiously wait with bated breath, that nothing would find her, he dared not leave his painting unnecessarily, the toll it took on his body was immense.

Thinking of Ib he felt a lump form in his throat, how nearly she'd been taken and the sight of that hideous bruise around her neck, made by that.. _thing_. Shaking the thought from his head, he instead chuckled at how surprisingly heavy she'd been, for such a small child, when he helped her through the picture.

He thought back to the times he and Ib journeyed through Guertena's gallery back when he first meet the lionhearted young girl who'd found a stranger collapsed on the ground. He smiled weakly _'I shouldn't be thinking fondly of that time, it was so hard.. on both of us.'_ It truly had even as young as she was Ib had been so brave, he was sure it was because she had no choice but to be.

He could only recount two times her stead fast veil had fallen once for reasons he could not fathom when looking into a mirror. She had been startled mumbling something about his face before quickly walking away she'd become somehow quieter whenever he asked what'd happened. The other when they found a painting of her parents, the shock caused her to collapse and suffer terrible nightmares she refused to speak of. The poor dear, she's been through so much and still she can't let it go as long as she's pulled back here. His thoughts drifted to a promise he could never forget. A surge of guilt tightened his chest.. he could really do with a cigarette.

Garry perched down on the floor and gazed up at the living mural, when he focused at times he could make out blurred images of people. He wondered if this was a view of the real world through a painting, other paintings existed in both worlds why not his. He scanned them for signs of a small red clad figure who would frequently be there. As he stared at the living ceiling he noticed what looked like a large mass of.. rope? Just beyond the stream of colours. Straining his eyes for a better look, but there was nothing to be seen.

"Must have just been a trick of the eye by the paints movements, no matter."

Refocusing on the humanoid shapes shifting past, a myriad of sizes, colours, some staring intently others passing with barely a glance.

"I wonder if she's here ... hmm... there!"

Absent mindedly pointing her out, noticing a deep red smear on his hand. Could it be blood? When did this happen? He felt the throb of an open wound on his side, how did this... wait hadn't he just felt that before? He tried to focus his mind on recent events but the harder he tried the faster they seemed to slip away. Fear gripped him as he felt himself falling away, drowning in a sea of confusion.

Before his eyes the blood faded, his head was swimming with bizarre and hazy thoughts. A series of images flashed through his mind, making their last stand before being forgotten. Vines with needle sharp thorns entangling him, the silhouette of a young woman and a barrage of others of a life half lived.

"No, No this can't be happening, not now!"

He hid his face in his hands as if trying to contain the mayhem threatening to tear him apart. Slowly the panic, the perplexing memories, the pain were all washed away by a wave of tranquility. All became still, his mind left floating in serene nothingness as a lazy smile formed on his face.

Removing his hands from his face, leaving streaks of blood, he looked back to the girl in the rouge garments, now alone was waving at him. He waved back as his vision grew dark. He lay down on the cool floor, lidded eyes watching the spiralling patterns dance across the makeshift sky as he was lulled to sleep.

**AN :** Thanks for reading, sorry for the slowness of this chapter, work and stuff has a habit of getting in the way. For those who asked I will be continuing this story to completion and for those that might ask next chapter is more eventful scouts honour.

Again thanks to all readers, to those who reviewed and followed. In all honesty I thought I'd be writing this just for myself, quite heart warming to know others have enjoyed it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Back down the rabbit hole**

The pale morning light creeped across the wooden floor and stacked boxes ending short of Ib's solemn figure in front of an antique mirror. Looking down at a small piece of paper, now slightly crumbled by her trembling hands, a maelstrom of emotions coursed through her. A guilty joy for finding her old friend mingled with deep fear for his well being. Each feeling warring for dominance hidden behind calm scarlet eyes lined with sleepless shadows. Taking a steading breath she gingerly tucked the note into the mirrors frame, slender fingers gracing the craved designs, her goodbye and apology should she not return.

Hopefully it'd prove unneeded otherwise... quietening the thought she looked into the mirror once more, the reflection stared out with a steely resolve. This was no time to lose heart.

With renewed purpose she moved to the few items she had gathered for the return journey. Picking up her rucksack she hesitated wondering if this was really enough. There was a bottle of water, a packet of hard candies she'd use to calm her nerves and a lace handkerchief her mother gave her years ago. She took the handkerchief everywhere she went, it was strange how such a unassuming thing would be so dear to her. However being such a practical girl Ib would find a multitude of uses far exceeding conventional practices even if her mother scolded her for improper use.

_'I'm going to a mad place filled with monsters and that demon child, I need to defend myself.' Her eyes narrowed as the image of Mary's laughing face flashed through her mind._

She reached for the draw of the nearby vanity table, revealing a sculpting knife - her most prized possession. She gently picked it up, rolling it between her fingers as the early light danced off its surface. With this knife Ib had created many clay sculptures, it was a tool of creation - it didn't feel right to use it in such a negative manner. She looked over her hoards of clay models, all lovingly fashioned, patiently waiting in boxes to be taken to her new home. Placing the knife in the bag she hoped she wouldn't need to sully it.

_'That'll have to do.'_

She quietly tip toed through numerous hallways, careful not to wake anyone especially her mother. Who had an uncanny ability of picking out of people what they most wanted to hide making her one of the only people Ib had trouble keeping her thoughts from. This had always unsettled Ib who preferred not to allow others to know her inner inklings.

Making the last turn before the door Ib heard the unmistakable laughter of her parents. Stopping so suddenly she nearly fell, she realised the sound was coming from the tea room that opened into the corridor facing the main door.

Cursing her luck she glanced around the door frame which revealed a scene the polar opposite of the turmoil in Ib's heart. Her parents were having breakfast muling over current affairs and potential new artists while the pale green of the room seemed work the morning light into a peaceful aura.

As she looked on her heart began to ache with desire to stay, to just enter the room and let the serene glow fill her. What would happen to them if she never returned? A guilty pain in her chest stabbed at her heart, she was very close to her parents. Growing up she'd spent more time with them at high class social conventions then in the playgrounds with her peers - leading others to think of her as haughty and stuck up. She found such people too rambunctious and excitable, taking the slights in silence.

Turning away from the picturesque scene Ib looked for how to pass by without notice. When suddenly the call of her name made her heart jump into her throat. She looked back to see her father smiling pleasantly at her while indicating towards the empty chair besides him.

"Morning, sleep well?" Beckoning her to sit again while reaching for his coffee.

Before she could answer he carried on; its wasn't to be rude he was just always like this too many cogs turning at once.

"So, theres this up and coming sculptor I'll be heading off to see, what was his name.. Kvakland people are really starting to take notice of him. I was thinking you'd come with me tomorrow, you'll need to start getting some hands on experience with the business sooner or later."

He seemed to not notice Ib refusing to leave the doorway, but her mother had. Pausing, from preening the leaves of her lotus arrangement, to give the conversation her full attention.

"But I'm meant to be moving tomorrow." Ib said with a forced even voice all to aware of her mothers gaze.

"Don't you worry your head about that, your new place will be ready and waiting when you get back. Ah your first place, you're going to have a lot of fun." Her mother chimed with a knowing look before drifting off into distance memories, while her husband shifted uncomfortably.

Ib nodded in acknowledgement, trying to look content but her eyes betrayed her hidden anxieties. She had to leave now, the longer she waited the longer Garry was with that.. that thing. The gruesome memory of him being torn into by those thorns quicken her heart and drained the blood from her face.

"Is everything okay dear? You're looking awfully peaky." Her mother said studying her daughters face. "Oh I know, here take this." She majestically glided across the room almost ghost like and handed over a small red bundle. "Its a new coat, cashmere should warm you right up and bring back those rosy cheeks."

Ib nodded as her mother gave her a parental cheek squeeze smilingly warmly before her expression suddenly darkened. "Are you sure your okay?"

"Thank you, I'm sure it will." Ib quickly said over her mothers question and giving a small smile. "I have to go, I'm meeting a friend at the gallery."

With that Ib threw the coat into the rucksack and half ran for the door. As she turned the handle she cast a glance back, her heart jolted as she saw the worried look in her mothers crimson eyes.

"I'm going to be bringing him back later, I'm sure you'll like him." She blurted out stunning her mother into a bemused silence, and causing her father to choke on his breakfast. _'Well at least mum isn't worried anymore.'_ She thought to herself as her cheeks turned a gentle pink.

* * *

Arriving at the art gallery Ib found it to be as packed as ever, since the Guertena exhibit had arrived the galleries popularity had exploded thrice fold. The owners had expanded the building, with wings for traditional, modern and new artists many of which had been discovered by her fathers art dealership. He had even once said one day he'd be putting Ib's sculptures forward but she had scoffed at the notion - she needed much more practice.

Her dream still fresh in her mind she hastily ascended the staircase and sprinted down the hall, pushing through a large group of tourists in the process. Nothing else mattered at the moment, all she was focused on was getting back as fast as she could.

Then she came before it 'The Fabricated World' the perplexing and chaotic painting thats bold and whimsical strokes teased the viewer to explore its hidden depths. She stood before the painting waiting for the lights to flicker, paint to run... something, but nothing happened. Walking closer to the painting Ib reached out and caressed the canvas, feeling the individual brushstrokes willing them give way.

"Eh hem!"

The sound broke through her thoughts, she spun around to find a largely built, middle aged security guard in tow with a group of disgruntled tourists.

"Try and keep your hands to yourself missy, not on the works or other patrons, otherwise you'll be asked to leave."

"Ah.. sorry." Casting her head down, her voice small and meek ashamed of her behaviour.

Pleased with the guards handling of the situation the tourists left, loudly discussing the problems of youth today and the decline in the moral fabric. As they past out of sight the guards eyes switched from a grey sternness to friendly in a split second.

"What was that about, thats not like you at all?"

"I'm sorry Andrew, theres just a lot on my mind at the moment. I won't cause anymore trouble."

"You want to talk about it?" He paused as he examined the girls body language, she remained silent whatever the problem was she wasn't telling. "..Okay, just don't go around poking the displays I'd hate to have to throw you out."

Ib nodded she didn't want to cause Andrew any trouble. The amount of time she'd spent at the gallery over the years he had practically watched her grow up. She even called him uncle Andy when she was little and had limited understanding of the word.

As Andrew left she turned back to the painting 'Why isn't it working', she was sure she hadn't actually done anything special the first time. She stood before the piece her ruby eyes boring into it, but no answers came. After a considerable amount of time she decided to try elsewhere.

She walked about the exhibits, trying to recreate her steps from that day, until she came to the 'Forgotten Portrait'. The image of a young man slumped over, his lavender hair obscuring half his face, he appeared to be sleeping so lightly that he'd wake at any moment. Again that pain sprung in her chest it'd been so long since she left him behind, all alone in that corridor. After a few moments she could look no longer, turning away she saw people filing past her to the exit, was it that late already? She glanced at her watch it was shockingly late but she couldn't leave yet and went in search of hiding spot.

Unfortunately the only suitable place that could take her size was the bathroom, a pretty obvious place. Hoping she'd finally have some luck she locked herself in a stall and remained perfectly still and quite. Time marched on, without a soul coming her way. After what seem like an entirety of absolute stillness she decided to chance the outside when she heard someone open the door.

Her body stiffened with surprise, she lifted her feet from the ground just as a beam of light passed under the stalls. 'Please go away.' But the fates had other plans as the figure began to march down the room. The footsteps were loud, impossibly so, her heart pounding harder and harder with each relentless step. Before finally stopping outside her door.

"Is someone in there? The gallery is closed you have to leave."

Recognising the voice as Andrew Ib let out a sigh of relief before reluctantly opening the stall door. Before he had a chance to question what was going on Ib began tumbling over words in haste, afraid of being escorted away.

"Andy I need you to let me stay longer just tonight please I'll..I'll.."

She fumbled around her mind trying to find some bargaining chip, but she didn't have anything to offer. She felt the prickle of tears in her eyes as she started to become breathless.

"Fine this once." He couldn't believe what he was saying, but he'd never seen her like this. He wanted to know what had made the scholarly girl so reckless. "But you're sticking with me I can't have you going around prodding everything."

He turned to leave before adding "Oh and you better bring me some of those macaroons I see you sneaking in here."

She didn't response straight away as the build up of tears in her eyes gave way to a mixture of shock and joy. "Th..Thank you, of course I will."

She eagerly left the bathroom, stretching her tense body while thanking Andrew again as he finished locking up.

"So whats gotten into you Ib?"

There was no point in denying something was wrong, she'd been acting rather peculiarly, but she didn't know what to say without sounding crazy.

"I just need spend so more time with a painting." It wasn't a great excuse but better to sound like a art nut then just a nut.

The surprised look on Andrews face was pretty comical before suspicion crossed his brow. "Is that what this is all about? You've spent more time here then half the staff..." His eyes softened. "It's that picture of the boy isn't?"

Ib nodded.

For all the years Ib had been coming to the gallery there were sections she'd never stepped in. Always preferring to spend the day sitting in front this one painting for hours on end. When he'd questioned her as a child said she didn't think he deserved to be forgotten and alone, in the later years she'd stated she just felt drawn to it.

"Right then, if thats it you can stay there while I do my rounds but when I'm done you have to leave."

She beamed at him, rather more freely then he'd ever seen before. After escorting her to the painting he left for his rounds. When he was out of ear shot Ib mulled over her options unsure what more she could do. Frustration grew within her, what did this place want? 'There must be a way back'. Looking back to the image of Garry's sleeping face her anger turned to sorrow, she began to grow more desperate for any sign she could get back.

"H-Hello"

What was she doing talking to a painting, but looking up at the sleeping man so life like she could almost hear his soft breaths.

"Are you there? Can you hear me?"

Silence.

"I'm.. I'm sorry it's all my fault you're stuck there, if I had just held my rose tighter you wouldn't have.." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. "How do you not hate me? It's my fault but you still protect me."

The only sound was her own laboured breath as she resisted the urge to cry.

She hated feeling so helpless it reminded her of that corridor, the floor dotted with blue petals. _'I don't want to lie to you.. but I don't want to tell the truth either.'_ She'd run as fast as she could, to stop Mary and save him but.. Lowering her gaze she shook with a despair that threatened to engulf everything of her into endless darkness.

"Why did you throw everything away for child you barely knew."

Then she felt a presence embrace her, it was warm and comforting, pulling her back. Looking back up at the painting she thought there was a small smile not there before, she was sure he was reaching out to her. Her hand moved of its own will stopping just before the painting in the form of a pinky promise, suddenly filled with renewed determination she felt lighter.

"I'm bringing you back this time I promise."

As if in response the lights began to flicker and she became aware of a shuffling noise downstairs. Cautiously she headed down the stairs to the source of the disturbance, even if this was familiar this world had a habit of throwing the unexpected at its travellers.

The large white room opened up before her, the skylight depicting stormy clouds obscuring the weak end day rays. What little light remained focused on the centre piece 'Abyss of the Deep', the velvet rope now cut and blue writing gleamed at the edge. Hastily moving towards the grand exhibit she stared into its depths, it felt like it was wholly pulling her in demanding all her attention and thoughts.

Snapping back to the present she looked over the writing on the floor glinting like fresh paint. _'Fancy another trip? Come down and find me little rabbit.'_ Wondering who the curious message was referring to she moved to the brim of the Abyss.

Taking a deep breath she jumped crashing through the surface into the stark depths below. She sank further and further into the endless deep its oppressive nature filling all her senses. She squinted through the dank light as far as the eye could see were gloomy shapes that roughly resembled people. She tried to ignore them but they surrounded her, she closed her eyes tightly willing them away.

* * *

Further and further down, the light had all but vanished, then with disconcerting suddenness her feet hit firm ground. She opened her eyes to find herself in a corridor she knew very well. She'd often walked these halls in her dreams but right now they seemed more vibrant, alive giving a feeling of being welcomed back.

A dusty aroma filled the air so thickly it could almost be tasted. She gingerly reached out a hand running it across the wall taking in every detail, it was so different from her dream version everything there seemed so listless in comparison.

At the end of the hall radiating against the darkness stood a single brilliantly red rose in a long necked vase. Ib gently picked it up by its slender thornless stem, moving it slowly as if it were made of a fragile glass that'd shatter at the slightest touch. She noted a difference, there seemed to be more petals.

With the rose in hand she re shuffled her bag-pack and headed on, a small smile on her face - for the first time she was thankful for the dreams. Even if it had been a muted version missing details and life she knew this place. Entering the next room, completely emerald green with one wall lined with insect pictures next to a long corridor, Ib was surprised to hear an excited squeak. Turning on the spot she couldn't see where the noise had come from before looking downwards and seeing a tiny ant at her feet.

"Wow when did you get so big? I bet you can reach really high things like the... like the top shelf! All the best stuff is on the top shelf."

She crouched down to get a better look at the ant, it seemed familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Though her memories had returned the process had been.. chaotic, while some memories were clear as day others remained shadowy and confused.

"But it was better when I could fly, nothing is too high when you can fly." The ant continued to prattle on.

"You were a flying ant? What happened to your wings?"

The ant seemed baffled by the questions before replying.

"I'm no flying ant, that'd be really cool. I could fly when I was a bee and butterfly."

Ib blinked... _'That didn't make any sense.'_

"We'd play all the time, but I.. they.. whatever got tired and went to their paintings. They haven't woken up yet but I'm sure they will soon how much sleep do you need? I've been feeling really sleepy too but I can't find my painting so I'm waitin' 'til we're together again."

The ant let out a loud yarn after its ramblings, its feelers drooping. While Ib irrationally found herself glancing at a door n the far right, but she knew that wasn't the right way.

"You can come with me, maybe we'll see your painting?" Ib held out her hand to the critter. The ant excitedly squeaked again and headed towards her hand before noticing the red rose in her other.

"Can I have that?" Pointing its body towards the rose "There was a white one here a long time ago it was yummy."

Shocked Ib recoiled her hand from the bug, as pleasant as the ant had been she couldn't risk taking it with her. She stood up and quickly made her way down the corridor _'Can anything here be trusted?'_ she pondered, taking no heed of the shadowed arms that sprung from the sides.

"Wait where you going... Wait... Please don't leave me alo.."

The small voice slowly faded into the distance, as Ib journeyed further down the darkened halls wondering if she'd done the right thing.

* * *

He felt like he was falling, falling for an impossibly long time. He tried to open his eyes but found he couldn't or all around him was so perfectly dark it didn't make a difference. It wasn't just sight everything seemed absent no sounds, no feeling.. nothing he wasn't even sure if he was falling anymore. The complete nothingness seemed to close in on him.. this was a terrible place. His breaths became uneven as he tried to cut himself from these surroundings and think of open fields, towns, buildings anything but this.

The next time he opened his eyes he was standing in a vast wasteland, the barren brown of the dry earth and orange tinted evening sky was all that could be seen.

"Where am I?"

A sharp wind blew past, he pulled his ragged coat tighter around himself. Spotting a landmark on the horizon, a tree, and seeing no better alternative he headed towards it. The land seemed unforgiving and oddly had a nostalgic smell. Casting his mind back to a time as young boy he played on a coast covered with strange white flowers, asphodel his father had called them. It was then he realised he had not thought about his past or life in the real world since he became stuck here, strange indeed.

As he reached the tree, which appeared to be a withered old cherry blossom, he could see a noose twisting in the wind fasten to the lowest branch. Glancing down he was immediately filled with distain, sitting amongst the gnarled roots was a blue doll. Staring up at him its red bead eyes glinted hungrily and a wide crooked smile unsettled him. Before it midnight blue words began to materialise in the dirt.

_'Everything is going to be fine.'_

"Hmm.. I wish I could believe that." he muttered to himself glancing around the barren landscape.

_'Negativity is unbecoming'_

"Getting lectures from stuffed toys now." scoffing at the message.

_'Everything is going to be fine, I'm going to find for her'_

Suddenly he felt something, Ib was in the gallery the feeling was stronger then ever before.. was she really here.

"Who are you?" His eyes narrowed as he focused on the changing words.

_'What a ridiculous question.'_

* * *

Unbeknownst to him, Garry wasn't alone in his painting. Mary stood over the unconscious man a slight frown crossed her face. She lifted his top slightly to inspect the wound, it looked painful but not life threatening, not that it really mattered.

With a sharp intake of breath she reached through his coat pockets looking for the lighter, the object of her destruction. White hot anger surged within her, how easily she could end him right now and be done with it, but that wasn't enough. She needed Ib too.

She needed this, to end the unbearable animalistic feeling that burned and twisted within her. All together they'd end it. A solemn look crossed her face, the anger fading to an empty nothingness that was somehow worse.. these rapid mood swings were driving her insane. With downcast eyes she looked at the mans peaceful expression and longed for the same _'This would have been easier if you were a bad person.'_ She retracted her hand from his pocket and grasped his hand.

"I'm sorry, but at least you won't be lonely anymore."

Eyes welling with tears she reached into his other pocket, her fingers gracing the cool metal object. She didn't like holding the lighter her hands began to tremble at the thought of it suddenly igniting, even more perilous when inside a painting. Taking several steps away she cautiously placed the lighter down in front of her and sat down, hugging her knees close to her chest. _'It'll be over soon, she'll realise what she did, she'll come back then we'll go together. We'll all be happy together forever.'_

* * *

Squinting against the sudden harsh light Ib came to a deep burgundy coloured room, decorated with several pieces of artwork. Stepping into the room Ib was overcome by memories, this was near where she had first found Garry and where she first came across the painted.. she couldn't quite recall.

Suddenly she became aware of a small noise from the far right of the room, quickly ducking behind a statue. Peering around the edge she caught a sight that sent a shiver through her body, the Lady in Red. Luckily she hadn't seen Ib, unluckily she was looking towards the only other door in the room. Hoping the door remained unlocked she prepared to dart for it when she heard the Lady was speaking amongst the harsh breaths.

"Uhh... the child... ugh.. will rot ..find her.. find her"

Frozen to the spot it seemed like nothing could make this moment more horrifying, she was wrong. The colour drained from her pallet as the Lady turned, her features blazed with insanity. Her eyes widened like a starved dog as she caught sight of Ib's rose. She pulled herself across the floor with alarming speed, finger nails and frame scraping across the cold wooden floor.

"Rose.. gi.. give.. give it.." She rasped saliva dripping from her gaping maw.

Before Ib had time to react the lady was on her, grabbing her by the ankle sending her crashing onto the floor. As her head smashed against the ground Ib's vision blurred and the screams of the lady muffled. In the dazed haze she saw the blurry figure get close, far too close, in a desperate move to halt the crazed monster Ib raised her legs and pushed against the frame.

The lady came back into focus looming over Ib her wide eyes fixated on the rose, as Ib looked on she thought they were almost pleading. The thought was cut short when the lady made another attempt to reach the flower. Mustering her strength Ib kicked as hard as she could sending the lady backwards.

Scrambling to her feet she sprinted for the door _'Please be open.'_ Reaching for the handle she could hear the ladies angry snarls just behind her _'Please.'_ The door groaned as it was flung open, she ran through slamming it shut behind her. Falling back against the door she let out a barely audible cry as the adrenaline rushed out of her body.

Hearing the lady rapping on the door her body stiffened, each knock seemed to echo through her. _'Remember they can't open the doors.'_ After a few moments of frantic pounding all went quiet on the other side. Straining to hear any sounds Ib gave a sigh of relief before picking herself up.

As soon as she stood a thunderous sound rang out as something hit the door with tremendous strength, threatening to break it off its very hinges. Scrambling back to the door she held it fast as the Lady rushed it again and again. Ib watched in horror as the hinges begin to break and the wood splinter. After several tries the Lady seemed to give up slumping against the door in sobbing defeat unknowingly bearing it down onto Ib.

It didn't take long for her body to begin shaking under the weight of the door and Lady, she was already exhausted. Sweat began to trickle down her face as her knees buckled under the strain. Franticly she scanned for something to secure the door, the room had several sturdy looking bookcases, but try as she might they were out of reach.

_'There's no other option, I have to do it.'_ Slowly she reached into her rucksack and gripped the knife.

* * *

His concern growing Garry picked up the doll, it was somehow always looking directly at his face without appearing to move its head. He could feel something was very wrong, it was a strange sensation like the air had begun to weight in on him.

"Where is she and who are you? I won't ask again."

His grip on the doll tightened as red paint oozed from its poor quality seams and under its cheap bead eyes. He glimpsed at the words on the floor there was no change. Looking back at the doll he gasped in fright dropping it as its wide mocking smile contorted into a knowing sneer. As it hit the ground its body broke creating a pool of wool and red paint, all the time it was staring at him, the words changed.

_'Found her'_

* * *

**AN :** Geez this is a lot longer then the last, thanks to anyone that stuck with it (already thinking about re-writing the lot ^_^). Also sorry it took me so long to update this work and general life have been demanding much attention lately. I will try to update more often, I really want to finish this fic.

As always any comments and/or tips are very welcome, please review and let me know what you think of the story and/or writing so far, do you prefer the long chapters, more shorter ones or do you think its terrible in general?


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